


this unfamiliar road

by singslikeadream



Category: Glee
Genre: Canon compliant until "The Break-Up", M/M, Other Pairings - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-24
Updated: 2012-11-24
Packaged: 2017-11-19 09:24:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/571749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singslikeadream/pseuds/singslikeadream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Sebastian who texts him first - a simple text sent to Blaine at around seven in the morning, complaining about Thad’s lack of tact and sheer inability to woo anyone. And despite the ungodly hour in which he receives the text, Blaine can’t help but snort into his pillow and send a response.</p><p>It starts like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this unfamiliar road

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this after "The Break-Up" aired and made a point to avoid watching the episodes following it. Oops. I contemplated rewriting this to follow the events of "Dynamic Duets," but decided against it because the end of the episode kind of pissed me off. Anyway, this is canon complaint up until "The Break-Up," but I might occasionally include canon events in future chapters. Enjoy! Or hate; whichever you prefer. (:

  


Blaine knows a mistake when he sees one and after his fifteenth call to Kurt goes unanswered, he decides to stop. He’s not necessarily giving up, of course, but just stopping for the time being. For his sanity, but mostly because he realizes fifteen calls later that maybe Kurt legitimately just needs some time. 

  


It feels weird. McKinley’s different - has been different since the others graduated last spring - and he hasn’t gotten used to it. It’s even more different now. Now that everyone knows what he did, and _seriously_ , just when and how did they all find out? 

  


He guesses it was Rachel. Kurt probably told Rachel, who then told someone, and so on and so forth. It doesn’t really matter, but admittedly, Blaine had hoped his cheating on Kurt would’ve remained _their_ business for just a while longer. Then again, who’s he to complain? He’s the jerk who cheated on the love of his life.

  


Since he can’t convince Kurt to forgive him, he does what he can. Rather than defend himself against the scrutinizing stares (and sometimes even _glares_ ) of his fellow glee members, Blaine reverts back to his old self - a side of Blaine that they’ve never seen before. He studies hard, focuses on his presidential duties, takes on more responsibilities in the clubs he’d joined this year, and even occasionally visits his uncle on less busy weekends, where his horse (well, not technically _his_ , but...), Madeline is. 

  


In other words, he tries to fill up his schedule so tightly that he’ll literally be _unable_ to think about Kurt. (The last time he did this, he’d been younger and his bruises and cracked ribs were still fresh.) 

  


They notice. New Directions, that is. They all notice, but they don’t comment. Tina stares at him a lot now and it’s awkward and terrible and their dynamic has changed so dramatically over the past week that Blaine honestly doesn’t know where he stands with her. It makes sense though. Tina was friends with Kurt _first_. (Everyone at McKinley, aside from the new transfers, was friends with Kurt first. He’s always known this, but this is the first time he realizes it actually _matters_.) Blaine doesn’t blame her, but a part of him is a little disappointed. After all, aren’t they ten times closer than she ever was with Kurt? 

  


Still, he doesn’t comment on it because she doesn’t mention anything. She just stares in a way that makes Blaine feel uncomfortable and miserable. His solution is to join the Celibacy Club.

  


He quits two meetings later. He isn’t too keen on shoving Christian ideals down peoples’ throats, especially when he, for one, isn’t Christian, and for two, has had sex. It feels hypocritical. And that Kitty girl bugs him, which, in his opinion, is saying a lot given the fact that Blaine doesn’t _bug_ easily. 

  


In any case, assuming that joining yet _another_ club would distract him from Tina’s disappointed stares was a stupid thought. 

  


The good thing is, no one really brings it up. Until someone does. 

  


“So, uh, dude,” Sam starts, tilting his head to the side to capture Blaine’s attention. They’re sitting across from each other in the library, both studying for different things while occasionally interrupting the other with theme ideas for Homecoming Dance. Blaine lifts his head, quirking his brows to let Sam know he’s listening. “Why’d you do it?”

  


It takes Blaine off guard, yet despite having initially assumed Sam would bring up another theme, one that hopefully caters to the whole school population and not just comic book fans, he immediately knows what he’s referring to. He still plays dumb. “What are you talking about?”

  


“You know,” Sam says before lowering his volume to a whisper, “Artie told me you cheated on Kurt. I know you’re not like that so why’d you do it?” If the question had come from anyone else, Blaine would probably be offended. But it’s just Sam. 

  


Still, it’s hard for Blaine to come up with words to say so he opts for a half-assed reply. “I guess I was lonely.” Sam furrows his brows, but Blaine doesn’t see disappointment flash over his face or anything. Sam just nods his head and continues reading his history textbook. It’s weird to not feel obligated to justify himself further and he’s almost tempted to. Not that he _can_ , because, well, there’s really no legitimate justification for cheating. 

  


“Long distance sucks,” comes Sam’s late reply, his eyes still on the large print of his book. “I know. I thought it’d work with me and Mercedes, but it totally didn’t. Plus, we’re only seventeen.” He looks up then, catching Blaine’s gaze. “It was kinda weird how you and Kurt always talked about forever and stuff. I mean, I was like that too, with Quinn, but then she kinda cheated on me with Finn... huh, maybe McKinley’s breeding ground for cheating.” 

  


Blaine purses his lips and gives Sam an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

  


“Oh, no worries, dude. It’s not like you cheated on me - oops.” Blaine’s shoulders stiffen, but he quickly forces a smile. “I didn’t mean it like that - I mean, yeah, what you did was pretty messed up, but you’re human, and this doesn’t make you a bad person, dude. You’re like one of the nicest guys around and it sucks that you’re all gloomy and overworking yourself, y’know?” 

  


Blaine opens his mouth to speak, closes it, and then opens it again. “Am I really that transparent?”

  


“Yeah, everyone’s talking about it. We were thinking about staging an intervention cuz we kinda miss the old Blaine. Like, you haven’t worn a bowtie at all this week. Tina’s all worried that you’re punishing yourself.” Sam stares at him so seriously, with such a genuine expression of concern, that Blaine can’t help but laugh. 

  


The librarian shushes him immediately after and Blaine mouths an apology. 

  


“Well, tell Tina I’ll wear one tomorrow.”

  


* * *

  


It’s a bright red bowtie, one that screams _dapper_ , and Blaine makes an honest effort to smile more. It’s relieving to know the others don’t hate him now, and it’s even more relieving when he spots Tina nudge Artie’s shoulder and point at it, beaming, when she thinks Blaine isn’t looking.

  


He suddenly wonders if he wears too many bowties. Dismissing the thought (because, _really_ , “bowties” and “too many” don’t even belong in the same sentence), he takes a seat beside Sugar who offers him a quick flash of teeth before going back to examining her nails. They’re painted a deep burgundy today - yesterday they were hot pink - and she seems perturbed about something. A chip in her nail polish, maybe?

  


Mr. Schuester enthusiastically walks into the choir room before Blaine can ask her what’s wrong. He likes Sugar and how eccentric she is. He likes that she never seems fazed by anything, how she never seems to feel compelled to be anything but _herself_. 

  


Thankfully, before he can even begin to psychoanalyze himself, his thoughts are interrupted when Mr. Schue announces... _something_. Something great, apparently, because everyone around him looks excited and enthusiastic and Sam and Finn are giving each other a high five. Blaine blinks, then turns to his left, where Jake’s sitting, his arms folded over his chest, only a small quirk to his otherwise unsmiling face, and whispers, “What did I miss?” 

  


Jake turns his attention to Blaine and for a minute, he looks surprised that Blaine’s even talking to him. It isn’t an annoyed expression and there’s nothing remotely negative being directed to Blaine, and that makes his stomach churn uncomfortably, a pained expression flashing over his features, hopefully before Jake can detect it. 

  


Blaine briefly tries to remember if he’d felt this uncomfortable and unwelcome when he had first arrived to McKinley. He hates that he hadn’t noticed it before and unconsciously, he flickers his gaze over to where Marley’s sitting. 

  


“We’re performing during halftime. You know, homecoming game or whatever,” Jake mumbles, shrugging his shoulders. Blaine just smiles in response, nodding his head as he forces a smile. 

  


“Thanks, I was kind of zoning out,” he says, his smile managing to reach his eyes. “I- uh, you sing really well.” And it’s awkward and he immediately regrets saying it because, c’mon, someone like Jake isn’t going to care about what he has to say.

  


But the corners of his lips quirk upwards and he pretty much _beams_ while still managing to look utterly bored and nonchalant. Blaine blinks in response, and the older brother figure in him almost wants to reach out and pinch Jake’s cheeks. He doesn’t, obviously, but he wants to. 

  


“Yeah, whatever.” Their conversation ends there, but Blaine notices something a little different in Jake’s demeanor. He forgets about the drama that is his life for the remainder of their meeting. 

  


* * *

  


He remembers again during French class. No one can really blame him for his drifting thoughts though. Blaine doesn’t really have any friends in AP French; hell, he’d only taken the class _for_ Kurt, and he’s only taking it again because it was either that or a free period. 

  


But he sucks at it. His pronunciation is off and he’s pretty sure Mademoiselle Jacobson only lets him take the class because she pities him.

  


And as much as he hates to admit it, the fact that Kurt had even managed to convince her last year to allow Blaine, a boy who’d never taken French before, to take AP French with him... well, something like that definitely wouldn’t have flied at Dalton. 

  


Still, there’s nothing else to take. He isn’t too keen on taking Spanish or Japanese, the only other languages offered, so he forces himself to get over the fact that the Italian he’d learned at Dalton will probably never consolidate in his memory bank. 

  


Maybe in college, or something. He’ll study abroad for a semester, two at most, and hone his skills then. 

  


* * *

  


It really isn’t until five days later - after a whole whopping two weeks of no contact with Kurt - that Blaine finally feels remotely better. 

  


But the reason makes him feel pretty crappy. For like a second. 

  


He’s at Dalton again, and it literally takes two seconds of him being on the familiar campus to force a bright smile onto his face. A smile he can’t seem to fight off despite his best attempts. 

  


He hasn’t even seen any of his friends, but apparently the chandeliers and prim uniforms are all it takes to elicit a positive response from him. His feet take him along a familiar path - down two hallways, past the grand staircase, down another hall - until he’s standing in a doorway, _finally_ catching sight of the figures and faces of the the guys he’d once considered brothers. 

  


It all seems silly now, to have left them for Kurt, only to cheat on him a year later. It’s like his brain is asking him what the point of all of that was. 

  


No one notices him at first; most of their backs are to him and the only person who’s facing him and can _probably_ see him has his attention directed to Trent. But then he lifts his gaze and stares at Blaine for long enough that the others soon start to follow his gaze. 

  


“Blaine!” He’s suddenly surrounded by Warblers and arms wrap around his body, hands slap his back, and voices all chime together, asking questions, none of which Blaine can make out because they mix together forming one incoherent wave of syllables. 

  


He just laughs, his cheeks aching from the stretch of smiling so widely. 

  


A few people don’t join in, he realizes - the new guy, a few guys that look like freshmen, and _Sebastian_. “Yoohoo, Blaine. Did you hear me?” Nick asks, snapping his fingers in front of Blaine’s face to get his attention. 

  


“Huh? Oh, sorry, no. What did you say?” He quickly looks away, but not before noticing the way Sebastian’s eyes linger on him. 

  


“I said, ‘To what do we owe for such an unexpected and gracious visit?’” Blaine laughs before admittedly shrugging his shoulders. He hadn’t mentioned to any of them that he’d be visiting - hell, he’d literally decided to pay them a visit during third period provided that he had enough gas for the trek. 

  


“Oh! I missed you guys so I thought I’d visit. No ulterior motives or anything.” His answer seems to satisfy them and before he can get in another word, a hand is suddenly thrust towards him, and he shakes it without thinking. 

  


It’s the new guy again, and as he shakes Blaine’s hand firmly, he says, “Hunter, the Warbler’s new captain.” Unconsciously, Blaine cranes his neck, searching the room for Sebastian again, but when his search comes up fruitless, he goes back to looking up at Hunter. 

  


“ _Oh_ , hi. Blain--”

  


“Blaine Anderson. I know.” There’s something in the tone of his voice that’s reminiscent of Sebastian and the way he’d _known_ who Blaine was without so much as a cue just last year. It’s stupid, but it makes him feel wary. Not that he lets that show on his face. 

  


“It’s nice to meet you. I didn’t know the Warblers had a new captain.” Hunter merely smiles at that, shrugging his shoulders before pointing at someone or something behind Blaine. When Blaine turns his head, he sees Sebastian behind him.

  


Sandwiched. He feels sandwiched between them despite there being a pretty sizable distance between him and either boy. Still, if he were to just take one step back, his back would undoubtedly press up against Sebastian’s chest. 

  


“I stepped down a couple weeks ago when I was made lacrosse captain,” Sebastian answers smoothly, and it’s weird how Blaine suddenly feels so uncomfortable under his gaze. It’s like there’s something about Sebastian’s eyes that makes Blaine feel utterly transparent - like he can see through him and his facades - and honestly, he doesn’t like it. 

  


So he does what only seems logical in his mind: nods and turns his attention back to Hunter without so much as muttering the, “Hi, Sebastian,” that’d been itching to come out the moment he saw the other boy. 

  


To an outsider, Blaine probably looks like he’s giving Sebastian the cold shoulder. That he still hasn’t forgiven him for nearly blinding him and going through hoops to sabotage New Directions. 

  


(Stupidly, Blaine’s always had an easy time forgiving; it’s forgetting that typically is a problem.)

  


“What he said,” Hunter replies, giving Blaine a once over, though Blaine recognizes the difference between checking a person out and sizing them up. And Hunter’s definitely doing the latter. It doesn’t really make him feel much better, but he still manages to breathe out a quick, “cool,” under his breath.

  


“Give him some breathing space, Warbler Hunter, Warbler Sebastian.” It’s David’s voice - sounds like the voice of Blaine’s own personal guardian angel - and he relishes the familiarity of David’s formality. 

  


“Yeah, guys. We don’t wanna scare him off! We just got him back!” 

  


* * *

  


One performance of One Republic’s “Feel Again” later, Blaine finds that he is, once again, completely and utterly transparent. 

  


He hates it.

  


“So who was it?” 

  


“Huh?” Shifting uncomfortably, Blaine looks at everything _but_ Sebastian. Sebastian just smirks. It’s as infuriating as it is remarkably confident. There’s something about the way he can walk into a room regardless of the circumstances and still look so _comfortable_. In that light, Blaine’s almost reminded of Sugar; the both of them, Sugar and Sebastian, that is, are just so confident in their own skin that it’s both attractive and frustrating to Blaine. 

  


“The guy you cheated on Hummel with,” he says, lifting a brow at the expression of utter shock Blaine throws at him, “You seem surprised that I know. I have my ways.” 

  


“Right.” He doesn’t doesn’t ask about his so-called way - he doesn’t think he really _wants_ to know. “Uh... honestly, I don’t really want to talk a--”

  


“Oh, but _I_ do. I think you owe me an explanation anyway.” And at the sight of Blaine’s confused face, Sebastian smirks once more, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. “How _dare_ you decide to finally cheat on Hummel and not call me up.” 

  


Sebastian’s mocking him, sure, but there’s something in the tone of his voice that makes Blaine feel compelled to legitimately answer. That urge, however, dissipates when Sebastian steps forward, the distance between them shrinking before Blaine can even think to step back.

  


“So, who was it?” he repeats, staring down at Blaine, and Blaine awkwardly shuffles back a few inches until the small of his back presses against the hard wood of a table. And he splutters in response.

  


He freaking splutters and stutters and glances away and lifts his hands awkwardly, moves them in such a way that prompts him to believe that he’s about to push Sebastian away, which would honestly be a _good_ thing, but then he drops them without so much as a word. And splutters some more. It’s humiliating and for a brief moment, Sebastian stares at him like he’s crazy. 

  


And then he shakes his head and lifts his hand to brush his fingers through his hair. 

  


“Jeez, Killer, and here I thought your whole bashful school boy thing was getting old. I stand corrected.” 

  


“It was no one you know,” Blaine replies a minute late, and he’s not entirely sure why he suddenly feels so obligated to tell Sebastian the truth. Maybe it’s due to the fact that, for the briefest of seconds, he _had_ contemplated calling Sebastian. 

  


Obviously, he’d decided against it. 

  


“Oh?” 

  


Blaine simply nods, waiting for Sebastian to continue. He doesn’t, and when Blaine flickers his gaze back up, he finds Hunter standing there, a white and fluffy cat in his arms. 

  


It’d honestly be frightening if the cat weren’t so adorable. 

  


“I have a proposition, Blaine,” he says while stroking the cat’s fur. 

  


“You’re wasting your time, Hunter,” Sebastian seems to respond for him with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. Blaine furrows his brows in confusion and that alone prompts Hunter to continue.

  


“Come back to Dalton and I’ll share my captaincy with you.” 

  


* * *

  


He doesn’t let Blaine answer immediately; rather, Hunter had sent him off, telling him to think on it for a couple days. Blaine tries desperately hard _not_ to. He doesn’t want to even consider leaving McKinley because, while Kurt had been the obvious and _only_ incentive to transfer there to begin with, he doesn’t want anyone to think that he doesn’t care enough about them to stay. A part of him wishes he didn’t care though. All things considered, his time at Dalton had been great and drama free. He misses simpler days.

  


But he never calls Hunter, but he doesn’t exactly delete his number from his contacts either. Blaine justifies it by claiming that he might need it one day in the future for an emergency, but he knows it’s because he doesn’t want that ship to sail.

  


That ship being Dalton and all its glory. 

  


He does, however, keep in contact with Sebastian. 

  


It’s Sebastian who texts him first - a simple text sent to Blaine at around seven in the morning, complaining about Thad’s lack of tact and sheer inability to woo anyone. And despite the ungodly hour in which he receives the text, Blaine can’t help but snort into his pillow and send a response.

  


It starts like that.


End file.
